Since a few of you are a little confused, I just wanted to clear up a few things. Since I'm writing this book according to my perspective and it's obviously open to interpretation, there are some facts that you can't ignore.

1. Remember that dialogue where Wajeeh says he won't cheat on his wife and Mannat tells him not to say that. She asks him to promise to not cheat on their relationship and not cheat on her because crossing a limit with her won't be considered cheating if marriage is the main point, ya know?

Wajeeh cheated on Mannat, you can twist it or not but he did cheat. Even if it was just a kiss, it's still cheating. You know?

2. Wafaa was in pain and she was vulnerable. I really don't think she's playing the victim card. She's a strong character, with past scars and trauma. Her only friend had died and Wajeeh was comforting her, he was the man she had feelings for and she didn't think things through. She wanted to feel loved and feel the comfort.

3. Mannat shouldn't be labelled a selfish bitch because she has been tiny bit rude to Wafaa. She has been more than understandind and hasn't hated Wafaa even once. She's not even trying to corner her. She can't be bff's with her sautan lol?

4. I don't think Wajeeh is an asshole. I have just always written characters who somewhat knew what they wanted. Yes, they were confused but not the way Wajeeh has been throughout. He doesn't understand his own feelings. His point of view is going to be nice, I'm just trying to write it the way I wrote one for Zaydaan so that will take some time.

5. I hate writing cliche stuff so story won't be going with Mannat being ignorant and emotional all the time.

6. I don't know how many more chapters are there. I never plan for such things.

7. Thank you for all your love. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.

8. Vote and comment, make sure to tell me what you think.

9. Unedited. Almost 10k words. It's too long so eh.

10. This is for Mannat lovers 💖 enjoy.

Mannat.

I remember the first time I found out about it. It was through someone I knew, it wasn't something that he had confessed but I had still got to know about it because I could read his eyes well and I knew when he held guilt within him.

As a child who was always insecure about not having a father, my only solace was the house of Wajeeh. I would love to spend hours and hours with Uncle Masroor, despite the fact that Wajeeh would get jealous because of all the attention towards me.

Uncle Masroor would bring me gifts and sit down with me while he would tell me stories about my father and their friendship. His mother would bake cookies for all of us but first one would go into my mouth because I was the special girl in their lives.

I still don't understand if they took some special care of me because they felt pity for the girl who had lost her father or because they simply loved me too much.

Slowly and gradually, Wajeeh started to distance himself from me because he didn't like his parents coddling me like I was their own child.

At ten, he would go out to play football with his friends and I would sit with Uncle Masroor near the fire place and watch disney movies.

Wajeeh and I went to the same school but we weren't friends back then. Despite not being so cute in school, I vaguely remember how cute I thought he was. He was my first crush.

After that, the only reason I would visit Uncle Masroor's house so often was because I wanted to see Wajeeh. I hid behind the cookie jars and smiled everytime he came back from football practice and gave me a tiny wave.

I sat across him at the dining table and looked at him when he would eat his food, complaining about how much his mother would feed him.

I would hate when my mother would arrive to pick me up, telling me that fun time was over and we needed to go home.

The first time he hurt me, it was at thirteen years old. I had won the school skating race and earned a prize. He had made his team win the  football match.

I asked the driver to take me directly to the office. Wajeeh had the same idea. We both sat in the same car. All this time, he thought I was going to visit my mother and he was going through visit his father.

When we entered the office and got out on the same floor, he asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to see Uncle Masroor because he had made me practice and told me that I would win.

Wajeeh replied that his father had made him practice too, and he deserved to see his son first. When I rolled my eyes and told him to move, he answered with the words that hurt me for the very first time.

He told me that I didn't have a father and I needed to stop thinking that Uncle Masroor was my father. I turned on my feet and went to my mother instead, telling her that I had won as I hugged her and told her how much I missed dad.

It was the first time I had ever told her that I missed my father. She held me close and told me she was both my father and my mother. And whatever space there was, Uncle Masroor was happy to fill it.

I told her he wasn't my father, he was Wajeeh's. And I hated Wajeeh.

Half an hour later, Uncle Masroor had a hold of Wajeeh's arm and he was in my mother's office to apologise to me. He took the both of us to watch a movie, and told us that we needed to become friends. We needed to stick together.

Both of us grew up, some times as friends and some times, as children with attitude who didn't want to look at the other person.

At the end of high school, Gavin Adams asked me to be his date at the prom. Before I could even say yes, Wajeeh was proposing me in front of the entire school and asking if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I said yes, we went to prom together and I fell in love with him the moment we danced together for the very first time.

A few weeks after that, he went to Pakistan and didn't even tell me about it. He came back after three months of no contact. I didn't really have a boyfriend, as I had spent the past three months feeling pathetic about myself but I pretended like I did. I pretended like it didn't matter but it did.

It didn't take too long for us to get back together again. It happened one night after a family dinner. I was about to trip, he held me and I felt like I could stay in his arms forever. When he cheated on me during that time, I already knew about it. The idiot had managed to show up on the same night, with swollen lips and a hickey on his neck, eyes filled with guilt.

I could have lashed out but I didn't. I kissed his cheek and bid him good bye.

He broke my heart that night.

After coming back from London, he approached me and I forgave him. We remained good friends after that. He understood me and I understood him. Nothing else really mattered.

I told him I had missed his smug face, he only laughed and said he won't be leaving my side anytime soon.

Every time I would see him with a woman, my heart would hurt. I knew what I felt for him but I acted strong enough for him to never detect my weakness. He was my first kiss, my first dance, my first friend, my first boyfriend, he was basically my first everything.

Even when we started to work together, we were friends who were always joined at the hip. Friends who were attracted to one another, friends who loved one another but were too scared to move forward.

To think that I was his wife now, and he wasn't just a playboy who couldn't stay loyal was almost crazy.

I always thought he was a man who loved me but craved his freedom too much. I always thought he was a man who cared deeply about me but he did not want to be bound in a relationship.

But these past few months had completely changed my perspective of him.

The man who couldn't stand being bound in a relationship now had two wives. The man who did not show up on time at work was actually the leader of a mafia mob. The man who I wanted to protect my heart from, was the man who had been protecting me since a very long time.

Letting out a sigh, I looked at the time and waited for him to come back. His mother had been sitting with me ever since I heard of Nasreen.

When I heard the gun shot and was about to rush outside to see what was happening, she called me and told me not to leave the room. She even told me to lock the door as Malik Balaaj was outside and acting up crazy.

When I got out of the initial shock and question about Wajeeh, she told me that he was alright and Balaaj would never hurt him..considering who he was.

She told me about Nasreen. It was absolutely shocking. I did not really share a good relationship with the woman because she was kind of judgemental towards me but I knew that it she was quite close with Wafaa.

I genuinely felt bad for her. no one deserve to witness the death of someone like that.

The fact that it wasn't even a big deal for anyone around, it scared me. Someone got shot in the house and no one gave a fuck about it.

In normal situations, when a crazy killer entered your house and killed someone, the police had to be informed. Here, no one cared.

I was surrounded by killers now. My husband was one of them. It was a harsh reality and usually, I didn't even try to think of the rights and wrongs but today felt like a good day to think about them.

He always told me that he only killed people in self defense, that he had never murdered an innocent but that wasn't a huge help. Even my father was a killer, my grandfather too. It ran in my blood and it ran in his blood too. It was a hopeless situation.

"Where do you think he is? He's not picking up his phone."

I asked his mother, who had a comforter draped across her feet on the bed.

"He went out with his father two hours ago." She let out a yawn as she answered my question.

"Mummy, I still can't believe how horrible all of this is."

She knew that it was my first time witnessing everything so closely. And while I wasn't close with Nasreen, she was still a person that existed and now she just didn't exist anymore. It was maddening.

"I know, Mannat. Sometimes, I can't believe it either. Balaaj really crossed every limit tonight." She replied, shaking her head as she squeezed my hand to make me feel better.

I knew another person who needed to be comforted much more than I did.

"Wafaa was very close with her. Is she okay?" I enquired, knowing that she had lost somewhat of a friend due to her own brother.

"I don't know. I've been with you the entire night." She honestly answered.

I felt bad.

"You should go and check up on her. I'll be fine."

I didn't want her to be alone. We weren't friends but even as a human being, the idea of her not even being comforted by someone after witnessing a death like that, it was ugly.

She looked at me with a hesitant face, as if she felt confused.

"I really am fine, you should go and see how she's doing." I encouraged her because I knew she was quite kind towards Wafaa anyway.

"Okay, I'll check up on her and then come back to you."

She assured, I let out a chuckle.

"Please, don't. Go to sleep. I'll just put something on tv."

"You won't sleep?"

I gave her a smile as she stood up.

"I can't sleep without him."

It was already five in the morning when he arrived back home. I had finished two mugs of coffee and a Hollywood thriller already. Since I hadn't been able to pick up any of my calls, the moment the door opened.. I got off the bed and stood up in a rush.

"Hey," I greeted softly, finding him dragging his feet towards the bedroom as he closed the door behind and took off his coat and sweater. The weather was unusually cold outside, which further explained why his hands were so cold the moment I touched them.

"You're still up." Wajeeh murmured, not throwing me a single glance as he squeezed my hand and then let go, making me frown.

He rubbed his hands together and held it above the heater, clearing his throat as he looked down at the heater instead of looking up at me.

"Obviously." I murmured, walking close to him.

"Are you okay?"

He obviously knew that I know everything about what had happened tonight. I couldn't have asked him what he had done. I was too afraid to know how many people he had hurt or even murdered in anger, because they had betrayed him or they were his enemies.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine." He said, as if to assure himself more than me.

"I just had to visit a few people and then Nasreen's funeral. I'll go and take a shower now."

He still didn't look at me. Infact, as I stood at a distance of one feet and looked up at him, he tried to pry his eyes away from me.

He rubbed his hands on his face, and then switched off the remaining lights of the room, leaving only one dimly lit lamp.

"Wajeeh, are you really okay? You're acting a little off." I walked towards the switch and switched on another lamp, confused at the sudden behavior.

"I'm exhausted, Mannat. I just want to shower and sleep."

I understood that he was exhausted but whenever he was tired, he would pull me closer and keep me in his embrace as he told me how tired he was and how he just wanted to sleep.

He was never exhausted enough to not even spare me a single glance. Unless, he was guilty of something. Was he?

"Do you need something?" I enquired instead, hoping to look at everything in a positive way instead of overthinking and creating worst case scenarios in my head.

"No, I'm fine." He shrugged me off, still looking at the heating system.

I sighed.

"Why aren't you looking at me?"

At my question, he did look up but he stared at everything he could focus on other than my face.

"I am." He murmured, swallowing.

"No, you're not."

I closed the distance of one foot between us and cupped his face in my hands, making him genuinely stare at me.

"Look at me."

This time, he had no choice but to stare as I was forcing his face towards me.

"What happened?" I asked again.

I'd always known that eyes were the purest form of communication between two people who loved each other. You could lie to the one you loved but your eyes would always give it away. Whether it was pain, guilt, anger, anguish, confusion, happiness..the other person could see it all. Eyes were the window to one's soul.

And I had been able to read his eyes for as long as I could remember. In his eyes, I saw something that I had seen before as well.

I saw guilt, and I saw fear. I saw pain and conflict.

"What did you do?" I whispered, dreadful of the answer that was awaiting me.

I wanted to know the truth but I also knew that most of the truth I wanted to know was bitter and would change my life.

"Mannat, please." He pleaded, as if it would change my decision and I wouldn't ask anything.

He held onto my hand this time and I wanted to be the one to pull back. I knew the kind of guilt he held, I knew that he had done something that would sabotage our relationship and make me question everything. I knew that he knew I wouldn't let this go.

He was scared.

And I was scared too.

"I don't want to hurt you."

The guilt that was present in his eyes, it showed me that he had already done something that would possibly hurt me and break my heart. Saying it out loud would only confirm it and I wanted him to say it out loud because even if he wouldn't, things would not remain the same between us.

"It seems like you already did." I whispered, mustering up the strength to look into his eyes and ask him again.

"Tell me."

I insisted.

"Wafaa kissed me."

Wafaa kissed him?

I had been trying so damn hard to not feel bitter towards her. Infact, I was feeling utterly sorry for her right now and all of that went out the window the moment he told me that she kissed him.

I knew that my instincts were right. insisted that she was looking at him in a different light now and he had completely disregarded my words. She had feelings for him and now she was initiating those feelings.

She was initiating her feelings for the man she was married to and while it was not wrong in the eyes of the society, all three of us knew that it was wrong.

"Did you kiss her back?"

I asked, even though I knew that there wouldn't be any guilt in his eyes if he hadn't responded to her gesture.

"I pulled away the moment I realised how wrong it was."

As if that could make it all better.

"But you kissed her back." I stated, looking at him.

He let out a slow nod.

"You crossed a limit. You know that, right?"

He nodded, again.

"I promised that I would stay honest with you. I did." He said with such an affifmation as if he had planned to tell me everything that had happened.

"Not until I forced you to look at me." I retorted, making him sigh.

"I'm sorry."

He looked helpless, and confused. I wanted to feel bad for him but I was already feeling bad enough for myself.

Stupid, stupid Mannat. Always thinking that he won't do it again.

"You're exhausted. I'm exhausted. Let's go to sleep." He looked at me in shock, not even understanding why I wasn't reacting.

Why I wasn't screaming and shouting and crying. Honestly, I didn't have any courage to do so. I felt like I didn't have any energy to scream or yell at him. I needed to gather my thoughts. I needed to think.

"But-"

"Please, Wajeeh. Not right now."

He didn't look convinced but he didn't push me either.

When he went to take a shower, I made a phone call. When he went to sleep, I was already inside the car and leaving.

"He knows that you're here."

I knew that it wasn't right for me to sneak out of the house without even informing anyone but I knew that it was for my own good. I had hardly exchanged pleasantries with my grandfather and yet he was the only person I knew who had the power and authority to sneak me out without so much as a single sound.

Once I arrived in his village, he told me that I needed to have breakfast first. He made me sit by his side and insisted that I eat a paratha made out of Desi ghee. The way he looked at me and talked to me, it didn't feel like he was a bad person.

After that, he started to speak over the phone and walked away. Once he came back, I understood who he was talking to.

He had been talking to Wajeeh and I didn't even have the energy to ask him what they had talked about.

"I told him not to come to you right now. He respects me."

"You don't know him very well, do you?"

I knew that it would only be a matter of hours before he got anxious and came to see me. I also knew that he would come and tell me how much he loved me and it was just a silly mistake but I did not know if I had the energy to think and forgive him for crossing a limit like that.

How many times could I allow him to stomp over my trust in him and our relationship?

"I understand that you don't want to tell me what happened but you can talk to me, about how you feel."

My grandfather was trying to be patient and understand my situation but I knew that he would never understand how I felt. I was sure that it was not a big deal for him or anybody living in this society.

For them, this was normal.

For me, it was simply torture.

"I don't know you." I replied, looking at the man.

He hated my mother. Even if I wanted to develop a relationship with him, the thought of him hating my mother and not even caring whether she lived or died, it haunted me.

"Come with me." He gestured me to get up.

I got up.

I walked by the old man's side, looking around the large house and realising that he was the only one who lived here. Sure, he had servants and people to look after him but how lonely his life must be?

He really had no one.

He walked me towards a narrow hallway and made me enter a room, switching on the lights as I entered.

"I made them clean up your father's room. No one has slept in here since he did."

I looked at him, a little surprised.

"Is this-?" I looked around the room with a soft gasp escaping my mouth.

I looked at the large painting in the room, it was a child approximately around ten years with a woman. It looked like they were mother and son.

Was that my father with his mother?

I questioningly looked at my grandfather again, a little surprised. He nodded.

"Yes, it's my son and my wife. Your grandmother passed away when he turned fifteen."

I did not even know my grandmother's name. I know that a lot of people were close with their grandparents and rightly so but I wasn't one of them. All I had ever known in my entire life as a blood relation was my mother. The closest thing I had to a father was Uncle Masroor and the closest thing I had to family was Wajeeh.

I walked around the room, stopping at the dresser. I found an old photograph of my father on the table. He was riding a horse, he looked young..barely twenty or so. He looked handsome and he looked happy.

I looked at the perfume, eager to open the bottle and inhale the scent. My grandfather did the task for me. I cringed the moment I inhaled it. Either it was already expired since it looked quite old or my father had a very bad taste in perfumes.

"I never touched the perfume he used to put on himself, the diary he used to write in, the pen he used to write with." He opened a drawer and handed me a diary, making me swallow again.

My father wrote in a diary. Did he keep a journal?

"My mother always told me he was very kind. It's hard to believe it now." I admitted.

I had always thought of my father as someone incredibly special but after getting to know about the Mafia and even after several of my mother's explanations about how my father was not a different person then what she had told me of him, I still found it a little hard to believe that he was gentle and kind.

"He was," My grandfather told me, continuing when he saw the ironic look on my face.

How could anyone be gentle and kind if they killed people for a living?

"he never liked killing, he just knew it was what fate had planned for him."

Fate clearly wasn't too kind to him either way. Would he have protected me if he were alive?

Maybe, I would have rushed to him the moment Wajeeh hurt me. I wouldn't have even looked back.

"I have never read his diary, but you can." I nodded, taking the diary from his hand.

I traced over the leather pattern, getting rid of the dust.

"If anything, it might take your mind off Wajeeh for now."

Nothing would be able to take my mind off Wajeeh. It wasn't possible.

"If you need anything, I'm right outside. No one will disturb you."

He was being compassionate towards me. He had helped me even though I hadn't really expected him to. If anything, I didn't feel bitter towards the man anymore.

"Mannat, I have to tell you that I felt happy after a very long time today because you considered me your family and called me."

He cleared his throat and put his hand on my head.

"Just know that, your grandfather is always here to listen, and to protect you."

He closed the door as he left. The word dada was just on the tip of my tongue but I couldn't say it out loud.

I don't remember how long it had been since I had dozed off but the moment my eyes fluttered open, I realised that I was not alone. In fact, I was using his lap as a pillow. It seemed like no matter how much I tried to stay away from him when my mind was at conflict, he always managed to to show up because he couldn't let me go. I knew that he would come here anyway, since I wasn't picking any of his calls and my grandfather had already informed him that I was at his place.

I got up from the position, making him realise that I was awake as well. I could feel his eyes on me, and I knew that he wanted to hear an explanation as to why I had left instead of talking it out with him.

Instead of talking to him, I tried to take the diary from his hand. He had been holding onto it ever since I woke up.

"It's your father's diary." He murmured, opening the first page. I had tried to to do the same but I had not been successful because of the language barrier.

I always took pride in the fact that I knew my mother tongue extremely well but at the same time, I couldn't read it. I had not studied the language in school or even taken a language course later on, which is why I could not read anything that was written in the diary.

"You can't read it. Can you? It's all written in urdu." He said my thoughts out loud, making me roll my eyes at him as I took the diary from his hand and kept it at a side.

"Why are you here?" I asked him, avoiding eye contact.

I knew that the moment my eyes looked in his, I would fall weak and start making excuses for everything that he had done. There was no possible excuse for what had happened between him and Wafaa.

"To take you home." He replied, looking at me as I looked at my hands instead.

When I didn't say anything, because I myself didn't know if I was ready to go back or not, he sighed.

"You can't just sneak out and expect me to not come after you. You've no idea how frustrating it was to count hours before rushing here."

He said it like it was an inconvenience, like I always ran away every time something of this sort happened.

"I can't do this, I can't do that but you can do everything. You can kiss whoever you want, fuck whoever you want, kill whoever you want." I snapped instead, letting my anger speak for me.

If he thought that I'd cry and beg him, ask him why he did it and yell for assurances, he had another thing coming.

"Mannat,"

And here it was.

The gentle use of my name which always made me melt but not today.

"Don't Mannat me. I'm done with this shit, Wajeeh. What did you think I'd do when I came to know? Cry my ass off?" I enquired, standing up from the bed and throwing the dupatta on the floor in anger.

"I am tired of crying for you. I am tired of crying every time I see you make out with a new girl. This is not any different from the fuckboy in America."

I looked at him but avoided his eyes as he stood up as well. He came towards me, I stepped back.

"It's different and you know it. Stop acting like you don't care."

I was not acting like I didn't care. I was just tired of feeling like something bad would happen every other moment. I was tired of seeking assurances from him. I was tired of questioning him if things would be okay between us at the end of all of it.

How could things be okay at the end when there were cracks already?

"I hurt you and you have every right to be upset with me."

He was right. He hurt me and I had the right to be upset. I was upset but I was also angry and exhausted.

"Yes, you hurt me again but I really have no rights here. I can't even walk away." I added, because it was true.

I could choose to be distant but I couldn't walk away. I knew that the moment I tried to walk away, he would come rushing and hold me back.

We were not just bound by love anymore.

"I won't let you walk away. Even if we weren't in such a situation, I'd still not let you walk away from me."

He told me, making me realise that he was obsessed with keeping me close like that. He wanted me to be near him, even when I hated him. He couldn't stand the distance because he thought I'd stop loving him if I was away from him.

This is why, instead of giving me space..he had rushed here. He didn't even give me the time to gather my own thoughts.

He kissed her back. He fucking kissed her back.

"So I should be the dutiful wife who sits at home while her husband goes around kissing other women?" I questioned, crossing my arms as I gazed at him.

He shook his head and held me by the arm.

"Mannat, I'm sorry." I closed my eyes.

He always apologized with such sincerity that it was hard to not forgive him in that very moment. But how could I forgive him so easily when he had kissed someone who was not me? Did it mean something for him? Did he kiss her back because he felt something too? Dread settled within me as the thought crossed my mind.

"I'm sorry that I crossed a limit that I shouldn't have." I heard him say it again but I was already thinking about the fact that he might have caught feelings for her too.

Every time he hurt me, I clung to the feeling that his heart only had space for me. I ignored his physical intimacies with other women because I knew that I existed within his very soul. What if that was changing now?

"You can be mad at me but you have to know that I pulled back as soon as I realised what was happening and I feel extremely guilty. I know I shouldn't have."

Yes, he shouldn't have.

"But you still did." I mumbled, swallowing.

"You pulled back the moment you realised what was happening? What did you think was happening before that? Who were you imagining?Me?"

Why was he even so close to her that she thought it was okay to kiss him?

"No, I-" A dry chuckle escaped my mouth in disbelief.

"No?" I asked with an eye raised in his direction.

My phone started to ring again and I looked at the caller ID, finding it to be Melody. I was literally not in the mood to pick up her phone call right now. She could easily detect if something is wrong with me and today, a lot of things were wrong with me. With us.

"Mannat." I rejected the call and peered up at him, finding him conflicted himself.

In that moment, I decided that I would forget that he kissed someone else if he could assured me that there was nothing at all when it came to Wafaa. I wanted him to assure me that he didn't think of her in any romantic way, that he didn't have a tiny bit of a feeling for her.

"Okay, how about this.. I will forget about all of this if you can assure me that you don't feel anything towards her."

I stated, finding him not eagerly as if his answer was prepared before hand.

"I don't-" I put my hand on his chest and stopped him from speaking.

"No, think about it. Look into my eyes and tell me that you don't even feel a single thing for her and I will let this go."

I made him look at me, and I saw the heaviness in his eyes. He was trapped within his own self. I hated that he was so caught up with everything. I had never seen him complain that everything was hard for him too but I knew that he sometimes thought how much easy life would have been if he wasn't who he was.

"Tell me, this was exactly like your meaningless one night stands. Tell me that she doesn't mean anything to you." I whispered, looking up into his eyes and trying my hardest not to let the tears fall.

"I'll let it all go, we can back to the way we were. I promise."

I assured, swallowing again as the years threatened to escape my eyes. He nodded, pondering for a moment.

I saw him close his eyes and I tried to pull my hand away from his chest. He used his hand and made me keep it there. I waited for him to speak.

"Mannat, I've tried to be honest with you ever since we got married, I have tried to honor our marriage in the best way I can because I can't ever think of hurting you." He admitted whole heartedly.

I nodded, knowing he was telling the truth. He never wanted to hurt me on purpose but I still always got hurt one way or the other.

"I've considered her my friend and-"

Before he could complete his sentence, is phone started to ring. He took it out, already seeing a few missed calls from Melody. I frowned, looking at the screen too. Why was Melody calling the both of us?

When he cut the call and turned to speak to me again, the phone rang one more time.

"It's Bert." He informed, looking at me with a sigh. What if something was wrong? Why were the both of them calling us?

"Pick it up." I murmured, shaking my head.

"Hello?" I saw him raise his eyebrows in surprise as he talked to Bert over the phone.

"A warning would've been nice. Where are you?"

What? Fuck, were they here?

"Fine, stay there. We're coming, it'll take around three hours."

He ended the call and groaned, looking at me.

"It's Bert and Melody. They just landed in Lahore." He informed, making me sigh.

Out of all the days they could've chosen to come to Pakistan.

"What the hell?"

"He says he wanted to surprise us. Since the group was busy, they decided to come on their own." Wajeeh further informed, quickly wearing his shoes.

He picked up my dupatta from the floor and handed it over to me, wearing his coat as he put his phone and wallet in the pocket.

I picked up my bag and looked at my bare face in the mirror.

I put my father's diary in my bag, finding my small makeup pouch already present inside.

Melody would understand something was wrong by just staring at me.

"Perfect timing," He grumbled, shaking his head as he waited for me to put the dupatta around my head.

I wanted to piss him off and not wear it, but then decided otherwise.

I could piss him off with my words, actions weren't necessary.

"Actually, yes. I can tell Melody how right she was about you." I shot back, rolling my eyes when he looked at me with a hurt expression.

Why did he act hurt when I should have been the one bawling right now?

"Don't say that." He whispered, holding my waist and making me stop.

"Mannat, don't hate me." He almost pleaded.

I took a deep breath and moved his hair back from his face.

"Things would be so easy if I could just hate you." I whispered, turning back.

As we entered the the hotel, we found them already waiting for us in the lobby. I threw my arms around my best friend, feeling her hug me back. I didn't know how much I needed her until I hugged her. She was the only one who could understand me other than Wajeeh.

When I pulled away, she whistled looking at my clothes.

"Look at you, you're all Pakistani now!" She exclaimed happily, since I was in a traditional shalwar kameez and had even worn a pair of jhumkas.

Since we couldn't have gone back home and I didn't even want to, Wajeeh had stopped at a clothing store nearby and made me buy a dress. He thought our friends would find it extremely weird if I showed up in a wrinkled shalwar kameez.

"We've always been Pakistani." Wajeeh added, embracing Melody as she patted his back and told him it was nice to see him.

They had patched up their differences, after several tries from my side.

I looked at Bert, who had been the closest to me at one point. He had lost a couple of pounds and looked so much better than before.

"Bert, how are you? You look so handsome." He chuckled against my ear as I told him how good he looked, pulling back and throwing a look in Wajeeh's direction.

"Your husband might get jealous, hush now." Wajeeh only shrugged and nodded, as if the possibility was there.

"Mel, why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I missed you." I hugged her again, she laughed at my eagerness.

"I missed you too. Oh, you've no idea how much I needed you right now." I murmured against her and she just hummed, as if she knew and that was why she had arrived.

"How's the new gallery coming along?" I questioned Bert, who was in conversation with Wajeeh as Malody chatted with me.

"I actually took over my dad's business. The gallery is taken care of but I have stopped working there."

It was quite a surprise since he was so passionate about art but I didn't want to pry for answers since they were not always pretty.

"Did you guys eat lunch?" Wajeeh asked, looking at Bert and Melody as his hand came to rest on my waist and I couldn't even push him away.

"No, we were waiting for you."

"Okay, let's go have lunch first and we'll settle down at the hotel too."

"Don't you guys have a place here?"

I knew that my father owned a house in Lahore, which was still locked to this very day. He had bought it for my mother but he never got to live in it.

"We have a house but it's far away and probably dusty. Even when Mannat and I come from the village, we stay at a hotel."

It was true. I just wanted a normal life in the two days of being in Lahore every week. Living in the hotel was as normal as it could've been. There were no guards around, no servants and no one who knew his reality.

"So when do we get to see the village?"

Melody enquired as we sat in the car, looking behind as a car with two guards followed us. Thankfully, Wajeeh had been smart enough to tell the others not to follow. Usually, two cars filled with his mafia protection squad followed us everywhere. Thankfully, they never came anywhere around the hotel suite that always stayed in.

"You don't need to. It's not as fascinating as it looks in the pictures " I replied, shrugging in her direction as I turned my head back to look at her.

"You okay?" She enquired, concern evident on her face.

I felt his hand over my thigh as he had also heard Melody's question. He squeezed it in assurance and gave me a smile, a smile that was believable enough and said that everything was going to be okay. I didn't think everything would be okay anytime soon.

I nodded at my friend, giving a fake smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." She hummed and laughed looking at Bert.

"That's understandable. We know how much Wajeeh likes to tire out women." She remarked, earning a laughter from all of us.

"Good to see you in your bitch form, Melody." Wajeeh shot back.

It felt like the old times.

"It's been months since we last met and nothing has changed." Bert said with a laugh, noticing the banter.

"Everything has changed." I said, looking at the man who was my husband, the man who had also kissed his other wife just a night before.

"What is it, Mannat?"

She had been staring at me for a while now as I was simply using my phone and not saying anything. She had showered, changed into to a night dress and she kept looking at me as if I would suddenly burst and tell her what was wrong with me. God knows I wanted to.

"Nothing,"

"You expect me to believe that you wanted to just spend time with me overnight instead of staying with your husband?"

She sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard, poking me with her foot.

"Yes," I added, making her click her tongue at me.

"Unless something has happened, he would have never let you stay with me. I know how crazy he is about these things."

She was right and I was sure that he would come bursting inside the room at any given moment, even though he was just in the other room of the suite.

"Mannat, I did not come here because I wanted to look at your country. I came here because I was worried about you. You left all of sudden and yes, we talk everyday now but I know when you are not happy."

She had been suspicious of us ever since we had left but I had tried very hard to make it look convincing that everything was normal. Clearly, it wasn't working.

"It's complicated, Mel. You don't want to know. Trust me." I did not want to land her into trouble as well.

"I do want to know. I don't want to stay in the dark. I don't think Uncle Masroor is stupid enough to leave everything and shift back home without a reason."

I sighed, staring at her.

"I don't think Wajeeh would ask you to shift to a country you've never even visited before without an important reason." She further added, making it so hard for me to not spill everything.

"You're my best friend. Tell me the truth." She insisted.

"The truth is dangerous and you should stay out of it as much as you can." I tried to tell her in simpler words but Melody was a very stubborn person.

"I don't care. I want to know what is bothering you and it should be the complete truth."

"You're a lawyer, Melody. You're all about morals and values. You wouldn't be able to wrap your head around it."

She rolled her eyes at my statement.

"I am a lawyer because it's good money. You're the one who was all about morals and values in our group and if you are okay with it then I suppose I'll be okay with it too."

She was a lawyer. She had an argument for everything. I groaned.

"I'm not okay with it, but I don't have a choice."

"Are you going to drag this out the entire night or are you going to tell me the truth?"

she was curious and she really wanted to know but I wasn't sure if she would be able to handle it.

"Wajeeh wouldn't want me to." I lamely said, trying to control myself from spilling everything in front of her.

"And since when has that stopped you?"

I always shared everything with Melody when it came to Wajeeh. I hadn't shared anything in a long time. It was exhausting.

"Besides, are you really gonna tell me that he is not in the other room telling Bert everything? He looked like he needed a friend too."

It was true. A part of him looked at me with so much desperation when I told him I wanted to stay the night with Melody but he didn't insist too much. He said he'd have a drink with Bert instead.

"Something is hurting you and you should tell me."

Melody softly said this time, pulling me down from the bed as she leaned against the matress and sat on the floor, picking at a french fry that we had ordered a while back.

I sighed, but nodded. I needed to let someone know.

"Okay, just keep an open mind. Yeah? And don't say a word of this to anyone. Ever. Promise me?"

She nodded, promising me.

"I promise."

And then, I told her everything.

After a few minutes of utter silence and shock, I was almost worried that she would stand up and run towards the airport. I told her everything. I told her about the entire drama on my wedding day, I told her the truth about our families, I told her the truth about Wajeeh and I even told her about Wafaa.

Our story wasn't complete without her. she would always remain a part of it even though I didn't want her to.

After a while, I felt my friend pick up another French fry and pop it into her mouth. She was a stress eater and I was sure that the entire story had put her under a lot of stress.

She ate a few more fries, then turned to look at me.

"I don't know if I should hate Wajeeh more after this or I should start to respect him." I frowned at the statement, not expecting that to come out from her mouth.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"A man spent years of his life protecting you. It's romantic."

That was what she had taken out of the entire story? Romance? Who was this person?

"Romantic?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes. Look, he fell in love with you in school and he was a stupid boy but he still loved you. When he came to know about the truth, he distanced himself from you."

She elaborated, as if she was trying to make a point.

"You always wanted to know why he  simply didn't even contact you those three months after school when he was in Pakistan. It was because he didn't know if it was safe for you or not. Even as a sixteen year old boy, he was trying his best to protect you."

She said in awe, smiling at me.

"This explains everything so much better. This explains why he was always so confused about you. He was fighting within himself. He wanted to love you and to be with you but he also wanted to protect you."

"And when he came to know that the only way he could protect you was by being with you, he followed his heart."

I smiled, despite the many questions that remained within me.

"And what about all the women he slept with?"

"It's a coping mechanism. You remember how I slept with three different guys in one week because I wasn't getting over Rahul? It's quite like that."

She looked like she was so much more at is because she had figured out Wajeeh. She always told me she didn't understand how he could love me so much and yet hurt me. She told me it was the only reason why she didn't like him more than half of the times. Clearly, her perception of him had suddenly changed.

"I can't believe you're finding the good in all of this. You should tell me it's crazy and I should run for dear life."

I responded, because I had expected a completely different reaction from her.

"But you can't run." She stated, as a matter of fact.

"You can't run, Mannat. I know these people from up close. I have read their files and how they're sealed so no one ever knows the crimes they've committed. This mafia world is cruel."

She ate another French fry and put it in front of me. I couldn't help and take it too. 

"You can only be safe if you're near him. And he loves you, it's not even miserable when you're with someone who loves you."

Yes, nothing was miserable when I was around him and I could live in any condition if he was the one by my side but there were other complications too.

"Did you not hear about the other wife part?" I talked about the other complication.

"Technically, you're the other wife since he married her first." She joked, and it made me gawk at her even more.

I was literally ready to hear her rant about how fucked up it was to even have two wives but she didn't. She understood. It was weird.

"Technically, you're a bitch who clearly isn't the melody that I remember." I shot back, she shook her head at me as if I wasn't understanding her.

"Mannat, I can sit here and bitch about Wajeeh all night. The truth is, you have to stay with him either way. this isn't like normal marriages where one kisses the other woman and you file for divorce. You will have to be his wife because there is no other escape for you."

She told me something that I already knew.

"When there is no other escape, we should try to make the best out of a situation."

She advised, bug she didn't understand my dilemma.

"I don't want to be with him because there is no escape. I want to be with him because I love him." I clarified, she nodded.

"And you do love him. You are really thinking that he doesn't love you because someone else kissed him and he pulled away a few seconds later?"

She exclaimed, as if it wasn't worth it.

"I am not thinking that he doesn't love me. I am thinking that he has feelings for her too." I told her my biggest fear.

She hummed.

"it seems like she is also trying to make the best out of a bad situation. She has no one and since he is trying to care for her because she is alone, she is developing feelings for him."

Was she mistaking his care for his feelings? Was she feeling something for him because she thought he felt something too? Did he?

"Can you just tell me what you're trying to say?"

I felt so confused because Melody wasn't even mad at Wajeeh. It seemed like she was trying to school me.

"Look, Wajeeh said he loves you and he'll always love you. As fucked up as it is, there's another woman who is legally married to him. A woman who has feelings for him and a woman who he has slept with before."

She laid out all the facts. I gestured her to go on.

"If things weren't screwed up, I would have told you to kiss someone else and make him feel bad or just leave him and move on."

Well, yeah. She would have probably brought a guy along to prove her point.

"But this is the Wajeeh who went batshit crazy when you left him and came to my house. He's been trying to protect you and he remained honest about everything. He told you the truth about Wafaa and his relationship with her, his friendship and how it didn't mean anything."

She defended, I only stared at her.

"He didn't need to mention the kiss but he did. He told you the truth because he loves you."

"I read it in his eyes."

Would he have told me if I hadn't caught him looking so guilty?

"Because you're his weakness. He says he's gonna leave her once he settles everything, right?"

I hummed.

"If he loves you and you love him, why should you both let anyone come in between?" She questioned, making me sigh.

"Mannat, you have never fought for your relationship. You have always  just moved back for the sake of your own sanity. Honestly, that's the best way to go around things but your situation is very complicated."

I had always walked away whenever I felt that he was going to hurt me. When we slept together for the first time, I walked away before he was even awake because I didn't want to be hurt and listen to how he didn't want to have a relationship with me and how that night meant nothing.

I walked away after he kissed me one night in the office and I pretended that it meant nothing because I didn't want him to tell me it meant nothing.

There were many other times when I simply chose to walk away and I never regretted staying. I couldn't walk away from him now. I was too much in love with him and he was the man who claimed to love me, who did love me and who was willing to do anything for me.

"For once, you should fight for your relationship. He has always fought for you." She suggested, making me gulp.

"you shouldn't think of giving up or you should not think that he is not in love with you. Don't give her any more space to come in between you both."

I didn't want to hate Wafaa but I hated that she had kissed someone who was supposed to be mine only, even if he was her husband on paper too.

Besides, she had Iskander. Didn't she?

"And what's a kiss? Go and kiss Bert and forget about it." Melody pushed my shoulder lightly, I scowled at her.

"What the fuck is going on in your head? You weren't like this."

"Yeah, well. I am thinking with a new perspective this time." She replied, continuing when I looked at her in surprise.

"I just think that you should start fighting for your relationship and believe that he will always be yours. For as long as he says that he loves you, you should fight for him."

I held my head in my hands.

"It must be hard for him too. Imagine handling guns and drugs and life threatening issues while making sure that the wife you love believes that you love her and the other wife also doesn't go crazy because she is lonely."

I suddenly felt bad for him. Was it too much for him too? Why did he never tell me that he was exhausted too? Why did he never seeked reassurance from me?

"My head is spinning. Why am I suddenly feeling sorry for him when he is the one who kissed someone else?" I whined, she laughed.

"Because you love him."

She told me the one truth that I could never deny. Before I could respond, we heard a knock on the door.

We both knew who it was.

"See, he can't stay away for long. He's probably going crazy."

She stood up and walked towards the door, as I kept sitting on the floor. I heard the door open and he entered with a question about me.

"I'll sleep with Bert tonight. You kids enjoy." She announced, telling Wajeeh that I was right there and he was blind if he couldn't see me leaned against the bed.

"Don't corrupt the innocent." Wajeeh told her, making me laugh despite all our problems.

"Fuck off, Wajeeh."

He closed the door behind and came towards me, sliding down my by side. I couldn't help but put my head on his shoulder, trying to feel some peace for atleast a moment.

___

Thoughts????